Sticks & Stones And Glass Homes
by Hider
Summary: This glass house is burning down. You light the match, I'll stick around.' Tim/Julie. Matt/Julie. Santiago/Julie.


**Sticks & Stones (And Glass Homes)**  
**Pairing/Character: **Tim/Julie (illusions to Matt/Julie, Tyra/Landry, and Santiago/Julie)  
**Prompt: **This glass house is burning down. You light the match, I'll stick around.  
**Rating:** PG-13 / **Word Count:** 3,371

**Notes: **This takes place during the gang's senior year because everyone but Jason is the same age. It is AU after season one in a couple ways that are pretty self explanatory. Basically, Julie never fell for the lifeguard. Matt was the one who ended things and she was the one who did the falling apart. This picks up one year later.

* * *

_I'm sitting in my glass house  
While your ghost is sleeping down the hall_

_- - - - -_

You go to the party because it's been a month and you're sick of people still looking at you like they do, labeling you with appraising eyes.

Your mom's too busy fussing over your sister to worry about you, your dad has no clue what to do in the situation, and everybody at schools looks at you with sympathizing glances or outright smirks (depending on the person). You were never supposed to get Matt in the first place so, in most minds, you deserve being dumped on your ass. Out of the blue. Everyone always wondered what he saw in you and now they don't have to. (Because he apparently stopped seeing it.)

You roll your eyes more than usual, take up scowling, and vow to never date another football player again.

As his rough palm slides up your thighs a week later, you remember that promise briefly. In the end, you write it off on a technicality since dating isn't exactly what you're doing with this particular football player and your dad has kicked him off the team so many times that he's spent more time off it than on.

Eventually, the battle inside your head gets pushed to the back of your mind like his fingers push aside the panties under your skirt. His hand and his mouth work in tandem and together they make you decide not to care anymore.

_- - - - -_

_Watching the little birds fly  
Kamikaze missions into the walls  
Think I'm going to stay in today  
Sit on the couch and watch them fall_

_- - - - - _

It took you over a year (and three attempts) to finally sleep with Matt.

It takes four parties in a span of two and a half weeks for you to give it up to Tim.

At first it's just making out in the bathroom when no one is looking. Then it's his hand up your skirt or yours down his pants and, before you know it, you're naked in a stranger's bedroom with no desire to stop things from progressing.

_- - - - -_

You're more alike than you originally thought but not similar enough for the two of you to ever make any sense.

The old you would've made lists in your head, spent countless hours debating pros and cons, weighing options, and scaring yourself shitless, but the new you doesn't do any of that. Instead, you just pour yourself another drink as you glance around the smoke-and-sweat-drenched room, eventually spotting him by the staircase.

You don't even look at him when you pass him, letting your looped fingers around his wrist say everything that needs to be said as they discreetly tug and pull.

You drink a little, he drinks a lot, it doesn't really matter, because you both end up shit faced and in exactly the same place (someone else's bed).

When you wake up, he's still there, and that shocks you more than ending up there in the first place.

_- - - -_

_Life keeps getting harder  
And it just keeps getting harder to hide  
The darker it is around me  
The easier it is to see inside_

_- - - -_

It might be the fact that he's not your first, or maybe it's because you're not really dating him, but things are a lot easier (and better) with Tim.

You think maybe you should regret losing your virginity to Matt after how the two of you ended, but you don't, not really. Losing your virginity to Matt months ago means that you're no stranger to sex anymore. Somehow, that makes you feel better about completely throwing your morals out the window.

That and the fact that you saw a rally girl throw her arms around Matt's neck and lay one on him in the middle of the hallway the other day.

_- - - - -_

_Outside the glass  
The whole world is magnified  
And its half an inch  
From here to the other side_

_- - - - -_

Tyra stands you up yet again for a reason that is probably Landry-related (a pattern long since made).

Her constant promise-breaking on the grounds that it's _super important_ has gotten annoying and you snap at the blonde harsher than you mean to. But instead of apologizing, you hang up on her with an angry jab of your finger on end. Because, as far as you're concerned, that's what it is (the end).

But you don't tell your mother that.

Instead, you gladly take the alibi and the short walk to the unfamiliar neighborhood and find his house by finding his truck. He smirks when he opens the door, his lean frame relaxing against the door jam, but you just shrug your shoulders in response and muster up all your courage to take the beer hanging from his hand when you walk past him.

- - - - -

The first time you sleep with Tim without either of you being drunk, you leave directly after.

Without the alcohol, you're left with only yourself to blame and that's what you continue to do. Over and over again.

It's too late to take it back. (You're not sure you want to and that's the scary part.)

_- - - - -_

_I guess that push has come to this  
So I guess this must be shove  
But before you throw those stones at me  
Tell me, what is your house made of?_

_- - - - - _

It comes out eventually, as you knew it would. No one can keep a secret in Dillon and the Taylor family mine as well be the First family for all the times their name comes up in the gossip circles. Someone was bound to spot the two of you eventually. You're just surprised that it doesn't blow up faster than it does, and even more so that Matt is the one to call you on it.

He's said less than five words to you since _I can't do this anymore_, and he's looked at you even less than that, but suddenly he's a concerned friend again. So when he corners you outside your dad's office with his reasons, you tell him to butt out because it's none of his business.

You try to ignore the words that come out of his mouth in mumbled patterns but you can feel your skin boiling under the heat of his accusations. It makes you snap at him fast and mean and as soon as the words are out, you want to take them back. You don't though, because you're too shocked by your own voice (one that even you don't recognize).

The look in his eyes confirms that he doesn't either.

(_I feel like I don't even know you anymore..._)

His voice is sad and pathetic, just like it always used to be, and you hate him for playing the victim when he's the one that broke you.

(_That's because you don't... and maybe you never really did._)

You keep yourself from looking back at him as you walk away but, when you reach the end of the hall, you can't resist a small peak out of the corner of your eye.

He's already gone and you wish you weren't disappointed that he gave up so easily.

- - - - -

Matt doesn't try to talk to you again and, not long after, Tyra stops even attempting to make plans with you. By the way her eyes avoid you in the hallway, you're sure she knows. Matt was sure to have told Landry, who was sure to have passed the news along now that the two of them seem to be attached at the hip. It only means that there are three more people ignoring you. (You would start a list if there was enough paper in all of Dillon.)

Your isolation shouldn't sting but it does. As much as you'd like to believe otherwise, what you've wanted all along was for someone to not give up on you. Instead, you keep pushing people away and they let you. They leave you behind without a second glance because you're easily replaceable.

Matt has his new girlfriend. Landry and Tyra have each other. Your parents have Gracie.

It's not about anyone hating you or ignoring you, not really. It's about the fact that nobody seems to miss you when they're doing either.

- - - - -

_And if you think you know what I'm doing wrong  
You're gonna have to get in line  
But for the purposes of this song  
Lets just say I'm doing fine  
I guess I'm doing fine_

_- - - - - _

Eventually one of them opens their mouth. Matt, Landry, Tyra, you're not sure which one but it doesn't really matter in the long run. What matters is that the people at school have stopped ignoring you and have went back to whispering (and exaggerating).

There's mention of your thing with Tim, but also equally slutty_ things_ with Matt, Landry, and half of your father's defensive line. (According to the girl in the third floor bathroom, Little Julie Taylor's _dropping her panties for anything in a letterman's jacket_.) Worse yet, someone tattled something to your mom and your parents have started to suspect that _going to Lois's_ has been code for _going to get drunk and laid_ for months now.

You come home to the two of them arguing in the living room and you sit down without being told because you have a good idea what's coming. You don't bother to state your case, or even deny anything and that shocks them more than the crimes themselves, you think.

Your mom's giving you that look (like she just can't quite believe what she's seeing) and your dad's actually made it to a point you never thought he would (the one where he can't even bring himself to scream).

You don't argue when they send you to your room because you agree with everything they said. You can't believe yourself either. (It'd be a lot easier if you did.) These days, you hate what you've turned into. You hate all the these things you've done and the things you've said to the people you used to love.

Most of all, you hate that when you're parents are fast asleep, you still sneak out of your bed and into his.

_- - - - -_

_Trapped in my glass house  
A crowd has been gathering outside since dawn  
I make a pot of coffee  
While catastrophe awaits me out on the lawn  
Think I'm going to stay in today  
And pretend like I don't know what's going on_

_- - - - - _

Tim quits the football team because it's easier that way.

He mentions it one night when you've snuck out of your house and the two of you are reenacting what you've started to call the Grand Canyon. His arms are folded behind his head and you're curled on your side with your back to him, the sheet wrapped tightly around you, as you stay as close to your edge as possible.

The sound of his voice makes you turn to look at him and, even though his gaze is directed towards the ceiling, you can see the sadness in his eyes. It surprises you but you don't ask him about it because that would be talking about feelings and just the thought of opening that door digs a pit of fear in your stomach.

You don't want to know whether he'd answer or not (and what either would mean).

- - - - -

You've never seen yourself as anything other than another Lyla (another girl to sleep with, another girl to piss off Tyra, another way to lose a friend) so it doesn't really surprise you when he joins you during your lunch time quarantine. What does surprise you is that he refuses to leave when you tell him to.

(_Done made that mistake once, ain't makin' it again_, he mumbles halfway through his hamburger.)

And you realize that you're more disgusted by the way he chows down his food than you are by him anymore.

(It makes you wonder how long it will be before you stop being disgusted by him at all.)

- - - - -

The two of you become a new sort of something, one that's built around a tentative friendship and having sex on a regular basis.

He ignores the topics that he knows you don't want to talk about and you put up with a couple hours of Sports Center a week in return. It's a good system but sometimes it makes you nervous when you let yourself think about it (something you try to avoid).

You start pretending that you haven't grown attached to his presence.

You tell yourself it doesn't mean anything when the two of you hang out and don't have sex.

(You also lie to yourself on a regular basis.)

- - - - -

Your car breaks down one night on the way home from work and you're dialing his cell before you even realize what you're doing.

Later, you'll rationalize it by telling yourself that he was the only logical choice. Your dad was at football practice, your mom was with the volleyball team, Sherri wasn't around anymore, and it's not like you have any friends left. Plus, he knows enough about cars to get you back on the road and home safe.

It doesn't mean anything that you've started to rely on him, because you haven't. (Maybe you have a little.)

- - - - -

_Yeah, I guess that push has come to this  
So I guess this must be shove_

_- - - - - _

You're carefully constructed Wall of Denial comes crashing down all around you on a Wednesday.

You're on your way to English and taking a route you just recently discovered. It's quicker and less crowded (and the fact that it makes you walk by Tim's locker has nothing at all to do with it). But this time, instead of a wink or a smirk, you're met with the sight of him pushing some Rally Girl up against a locker and laying one on her for everyone to see.

At least five Mississippi's later, they're still attached at the mouth and you're finally able to unstick your legs from the floor long enough to flee the hallway.

You're late to English class and you're back to not even caring.

- - - - -

Apparently you're not as good of an actress as you thought. A kid in your English class taps you on the shoulder and asks if you're okay, his voice full of hesitation like he's scared of your response.

You give him a small smile and tell him that you're fine even though you're definitely not and that's what pisses you off more than Tim swapping spit (and possibly an STD of the mouth) with some stupid rally girl. You weren't suppose to care about him and he wasn't suppose to care about you.

(You hate that _you_ are the one who broke the rules. Because as much as you hate to admit it, a part of you had started thinking that he did care about you for reasons other than sex.)

In the end, the kid either buys what you're selling or decides to play along for your sake (you really hope it's the former but are betting on the later) because he gives you a half smile and a nod.

He introduces himself as Santiago but when you tell him your own name, he just lets out a little laugh and smiles.

(_I know._)

_- - - - -_

_And if you think you know what I'm doing wrong  
You're gonna half to get in line_

_- - - - - _

Avoiding him is easier than you expected and, after a week of it, you're kind of relieved at how easy it is. When it comes down to it, all it takes to cut him out of your life is skipping parties and not showing up at his apartment uninvited.

He can't very well call your house or knock on the front door, after all. (That would just confirm your parents suspicions and even Tim Riggins doesn't have that big of a death wish.) Calling you is out because your parents only let you use your cell phone when you're driving to and from work and it's kind of a comforting feeling, being able to determine your own fate for once. In fact, you've just started to relax and fool yourself into thinking it's really over when he finds a way around all of that and effortlessly throws you off your axis.

You're sitting at the desk in you room, finishing your Calculus homework, when you hear it. The rap tap tap on the window pane is loud enough that it's impossible to miss inside the small space but instead of turning around to face him, you ignore it. You put on your headphones and turn up the volume loud enough that he can probably hear it through the window.

When you finally get up the courage to look over shoulder ten minutes later, there's no sign of him ever being there.

- - - - -

It's a week after his unexpected visit to your window that he finally tracks you down.

You've been in the girls bathroom for ten minutes, sitting on the counter and eating your sandwich, when the last of the pre-lunch rush lets the door close behind them. Not thirty seconds later he's storming in and catching you mid-bite of your peanut butter and jelly.

He waltzes in like he has just as much of a right to be there as you do and, after a moment, you realize you really shouldn't be surprised, just grateful that he waited for everyone else to leave first.

- - - - -

After your fight with Tim, you sprinkle hot water on your face, mess up your hair, and take on a generally disheveled appearance as you knock on the door to your mother's office. The sight of you erases the anger lines you've seen on her for weeks and she buys your sick act hook, line, and sinker.

You spend the rest of the day laying in bed, wishing it would be just as easy to convince your parents that home school would be a better option than Dillion High, home of one ex-boyfriend, one ex-fuck buddy, and way too many ex-friends to count.

School may be out for good in a month but you're not sure how you're going to face him in the hallways, not after the words you said. Not after the look you saw in his eyes before he walked out.

You tell yourself you don't care if he hates you. (Not a single part of you believes it.)

_- - - - -_

_But for the purposes of this song  
Lets just say I'm doing fine  
I think I'm doing fine_

_- - - - - _

When Santiago asks you out, you say yes because it's the right answer.

You're surprised when your parents let you go but, then again, their knowledge of your fall semester is limited. As far as they know, you've been faithfully obeying their mandated grounding and living by their strict rules, all without one word of protest.

Your mom tells you that she's glad you're growing up and to have fun.

Your dad says you better plan on an early movie because your curfew is ten.

Santiago takes his advice and the two of you go to a movie at the same theater Matt took you too, only it goes a hell of a lot smoother than your first real date. The movie's actually good, dinner is free of awkward silences, and the quiet walk home is pretty much perfect.

_He's_ pretty much perfect, nearly everything you've ever wanted in a guy.

He's nice in the form of quiet agreements and sly compliments. His sweetness isn't overdone but can easily be found in opened doors and good manners, which you hadn't seen coming. Most of all, he actually cares what you think. (Sometimes he tells a story about his life before Dillon and you can tell by the way he watches your from the corner of his eye that he's afraid of your reaction.)

He never once stutters.

Or leers.

You pretend that something's not missing as you slip your hand into his.

* * *

I've quite literally been working on this fic on and off for _years_ so I would love any feedback you have for me. Seriously, it would make you my favorite person ever.


End file.
